Vinyl and Neon
by CMW2
Summary: "Spotify and iTunes are awesome, really but…nothing beats vinyl. You can hear the rawness, the flaws and you can actually feel the music in your bones..."Post Movie Lilly/Donald (SlimBeatz) fic involving music, bright colors, and what happens when both are combined;Rated for language and spice;Light Spoilers for the movie within;8th in my 2013 SSS Project


**Author's Note: Hey, aca-peoples! I'd like to dedicate this SlimBeatz offering to the anon reviewer from **_**Adorable**_** who condemned my choice of ship with dignity, honor, and grace. 'boo bitch, stonald is better!' they informed me. Dear Anon, I applaud your loyalty to your chosen ship and I also appreciate your calling me a bitch because I take it as compliment but honey, you needed another comma and capitalization of the beginning of the sentence as well as your ship name, since it is "a very proper noun", in the immortal words of the Rufus Xavier Sarsaparilla song from the **_**Schoolhouse Rock **_**series. I'd be glad to offer more guidance if you'd kindly come off of anon. I don't Beta often but when I do, it's pretty awesome. Really, though. Thank you very much. Now, I can happily add more to the Lilly/Donald tag just like I planned to.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"I _**still **_can't believe you fuckers lost." Bumper Allen grumbled for the umpteenth time.

"No one could've topped what Beca pulled out of her bag of tricks and even though we lost the trophy, we gained a great new friend and fangirl lightning rod.", Donald Walsh replied while chucking his empty Monster can in a nearby recycle bin.

"Yeah, I saw. They call themselves his Applepatch. Un-fuckin'-**_believable_**…and then you've got Movie Boy running things, too?"

"Get the fuck off of Jesse's dick, Benji's dick and mine too, Bump. You ran off at critical mass so you can't say shit about how we get in Treble, anymore. You're lucky you've been my boy since 7th grade or I would've ripped your vocal cords out on sight. Fuck you with John Mayer's 'O'-face and a tire iron. By the way, how'd you go from singing backup to running his errands?"

"I volunteered. You know that I'm not afraid to kiss and lick ass when I need to."

"All too well. You should've locked the door."

"You should've knocked, bitch."

"It was my fucking room, asshole!"

"Yeah…well, well…"

"What?"

"Silent Bob alert."

Donald blinked and followed Bumper's pointing finger. Clearly visible on the other end was Lilly Onakuramara of the Bellas. She had on a scoop necked top (that showed a carrot orange bra strap when she leaned forward), a teal cardigan around her waist, indigo skinny jeans, and mismatched converse wedges, one pink and one sea foam. Her long black hair was down and her Scarf was tied in a bow on her right wrist, chunky bangles in the same colors below it. An Indiana Jones satchel was draped across her middle, the leather well cared for. Her nails were painted a glittery gold and neon pink and she was carefully putting her chosen records in the store provided green basket, her head bopping to the store music.

He remembered seeing her at Auditions. All eyes and shaking slightly with nerves as she sang in a quiet Soprano. He remembered her doing shots with Fat Amy and dancing happily by herself at aca-Initiation night. He remembered wanting her to wrap her pretty red scarf around his neck as she supported Beca's No Diggity cover at the Riff Off with her beats and 12 gauge shotgun blasts. Fondly, he remembered her picking up on his road raging vibe and transitioning it to something classical, something classy…

When he said, "That's adorable", on the bus he had meant, "_**You're**_ adorable." arson notwithstanding…

"I'm gonna go say hi."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Do I **_look_** like I'm kidding? Look, sext Fat Amy, pick up a Kenny G. record for you to write your fan mail to, and I'll meet up with you later."

"She's gonna fuck you, stab you and bury your aca-corpse in a rose garden."

"And it'll be aca-awesome. Bye."

_**/**_

"Hey, Beatz."

Slowly, a smile curved her bright red lips and she turned her head to face him. Despite Aubrey Posen's ban on having relations with a Treblemaker, she had ended up harboring a major crush on Donald Walsh. He was tall, dark, and handsome. His skin reminded her of honey and his eyes were a deep molten hazel-chocolate, magnified by his Buddy Holly specs. He was long and lean with nice hands. She had a thing for hands…and full talented lips…

The only people who knew were her favorite aca-sisters Fat Amy/Patricia and Stacie. Both of them had hounded her about going for it, Oath be damned, but Lilly was a woman of principle. When she made a promise (especially one with potentially bloody consequences for breaking), it was a _**Promise**_. Plus, the Bellas were the first real friends she had ever made and she adored acapella. Even when they were fruitlessly trying to put 70s smashes back on the charts, she got a rush from performing. She hadn't wanted to risk it…

The Bus Ride had changed things. Donald was a beatboxing master but he had the right type of confidence. His group was the shit, the gold standard for male acapella but he wasn't in it for fame. He just loved to perform. When she spoke, he actually listened without fear and he praised her own skills. After they were eliminated and the dust settled, she and Donald had struck up a quiet friendship. Not only did they have beatboxing in common, both of them were aspiring mathematicians, his geared more towards business than sciences. They enjoyed Marvel and DC media and comics, raiding secondhand stores, and dancing. And they both had roots in LA, roots that apparently traveled the same paths…

Lovely.

"Slim. What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

"Bumper."

"Burrito throwing, aca-brawl starting, pansy little naked mole rat… I once put a naked mole rat down a quarterback's pants."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"I can think of 3 very important reasons." he replied with a meaningful raise of his brows.

"There wasn't much to protect. That's why he was so mean." she deadpanned.

It took a split second for him to get it but his laughter caused her the same joy as the flare of her lighter. Looking away, she placed her basket on the edge of the display and he came closer, taking a look.

"The Temptations, The O'Jays, Gladys Knight, The Supremes, Stevie Wonder, Marvin Gaye…damn, you've got 'em all, don't you?"

"My grandfather introduced me to vinyl and I've been growing my own collection ever since I was 9. I like classic soul and Motown best. Spotify and iTunes are awesome, really but…_**nothing **_beats vinyl. You can hear the rawness, the flaws and you can actually _**feel**_ the music in your bones. It's just…I'm sorry. I should be quiet."

"Fuck no, you shouldn't. You're _**always**_ quiet. It's nice to hear you speak up, especially about something you care so much about."

"Speaking up is difficult for me. I'm used to being ignored and made fun of…and fled from, especially with boys. Well, other than you."

"I don't scare that easily."

"And you obviously have the patience of Gandhi and the saints to put up with Bumper for as long as you have. 7th grade?"

Even with his dark complexion, Lilly could clearly see his face go pale before a deep magenta tint filled his cheeks. And suddenly, the floor seemed to hold the secrets of the universe…

Adorable.

"You…heard that?"

"Yes."

"_**All**_ of it?"

"Yes."

"Beatz, I…"

"Donald, I wouldn't stab you unless it was bad. And even then, it would be a shallow wound that I'd take very good care of before we'd try again. And for the record, if I had to dispose of a body, I wouldn't need to use a rose garden. My mother is an embalmer and my father inherited the family funeral parlor business. That's how they met."

He met her gaze and she could see a gleam of…something in his eyes as his head cocked.

"But, you'd…"

Until the cows came home and the end of time…hadn't he realized that yet? So _**dense**_…

"Oh, definitely. If you were willing, of course… are you okay?"

"I…I'm good. I'm just…wow, Lilly."

He looked even better without his glasses, especially with flushed cheeks.

"While Stacie and I are polar opposites, we both agree that it's best to let a guy know your intentions without games. Well, she actually mentioned a few games but I don't think I'd be able to do any of them without being drunk first."

"I don't think anyone but Stacie can do Stacie games without being drunk first."

"Amy and Cynthia-Rose. And Chloe."

"_**Chloe**_?"

"I didn't stutter."

Their eyes met for a long beat and he shifted deeper into her personal space. He smelled like Irish Spring, cinnamon, and honey. Would he taste like those things or would it be something new blended with something uniquely Donald? Bravely, she shifted closer and put a gentle hand on his mint green t-shirt clad chest. His heart was beating hard and unconsciously, she picked up its vibe, humming softly as her free hand went to one of the belt loops of his black jeans. He had on the white jacket he had worn during the Riff-Off. She remembered wanting to take it off of him sensually, wanting to suck on his neck as they _**had**_ sex, not just talked about it…

Her wedges provided her with just the right amount of height that if she leaned forward and tilted her head up, their lips would be touching. She wanted their lips to touch. Their lips and more…

_**/**_

Donald watched with heavily lidded eyes as she bent forward, lowering the needle on her white record player. After a few seconds, a soft bluesy piece began to play, the bass line reminding him of a slow heartbeat. Her bra was not only carrot orange but also a shade of yellow green that reminded him of Mountain Dew. Her lower half was covered by low riding cheeky lavender boyshorts, trimmed with black lace. Lilly straightened up and gave him a look that screamed 'come and get me' before climbing into her bed.

Never one to back down from a challenge, he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. The come and get me look took a feral edge and a shiver went down his spine as she licked her lips. He was no stranger to sex or the heady emotional cocktail that it provoked but Lilly…everything was different with Lilly. He didn't just want to fuck her. He wanted to make love to her, make love _**with**_ her, and then stick around for the long haul.

Donald climbed into bed and rose up on his forearms, looking down at her flushed face. Her small, cool hands ran up his torso, tangling in the dark hair there fondly and she stuck out her lower lip. Leaning forward, he captured it and resumed kissing her, deep and sweet.

_**/**_

They had established a good rhythm, not too fast but not too slow, either.

Lilly shivered as his thumb dipped in between her legs, rubbing her aching nub and he hissed as her channel rippled around him in response. His eyes were very dark and heavily lidded with passion and they fluttered shut as she picked up speed and depth. He felt so good, so thick, so warm inside her, even through the condom and she had no intentions of stabbing him.

Throwing her head back, she let go with a strangled groan, her teeth clenched and bared. Donald surged up into her and came with a shuddering sigh, his head hitting her pillow with a muffled thump. Gently, she caressed his neck and his hands spanned her waist, bringing her down into a soft, slow kiss.

"_**Damn**_…"

"You do realize that we'll have to do this at least another 50 times, right? Not tonight, of course but still…"

"I'm game for Round 2 if you are, Beatz. Just…I need a minute…"

"Take as many as you need, Slim. I'll be here."

Once he was immersed in a nap, Lilly pulled one of the blankets off the floor and covered them, resting her head right where his heart was beating contently.

And the record just kept on spinning.


End file.
